Beautiful Freak
by holograffiti
Summary: This fic takes place within the episode Bloodlust, as Sam takes Lenore away from Gordon and maybe, maybe gets to see what it's like to feel, again. R&Rs make me happy!


_**Disclaimer:**__  
When it comes to Supernatural, I own nothing except my mistakes. If I did own it, there would have been WAY more of Lenore.  
I also don't own __Sister of Night by Depeche Mode or Beautiful Freak by Eels, except on my cd's. Nothing at all like a hack like me._

_BETAd by the lovely Supernatural-fan Em. Luvs ya, hun!_

_**A/N:**__  
I'm still writing my Glee-fics. Back in school and a bit busier, thus the rarer updates. This was just a way of relaxing my brain.  
Hope you'll like it!_

_**R&R, please?**_

_

* * *

_

_This takes place within Bloodlust (Ep3, Season 2) as a "lost scene, kind of._  
_Enjoy!_

**Beautiful Freak:**  
As he cradles her close to his chest, carrying her off into safety, leaving his brother and the sadistic lunatic-hunter behind, he notices that her head is settled in the crook of his neck. Her nose is nuzzling gently against his skin as he walks, but strangely enough he's not even slightly nervous. She's a vamp and he's a hunter. He kills creatures like her on a daily basis and she should be the most dangerous thing he's ever let inside his guard, but even now, when she's poisoned and so close to the antidote (in the form of his blood) he knows that he has nothing to fear from her. She's no more dangerous to him than any other slender, darkhaired beauty would be, nestled in his arms.

Perhaps even less, since she is so determined not to harm him.

He doesn't realize that while his blood is safe, his heart might not be. His soul is tender and exposed as he adjusts to this new reality, where she'd rather die than accept the offering of his blood even as it trickled down on her face. The pain in her face as she forced her fangs back into her gums by sheer will… He can't wrap his head around that enigma, but he knows. Lenore would never hurt him, and he is just as sure that he will never let anything harm her as long as he can prevent it.

Dean keeps claiming that people of their profession cannot have friends. Sam figures you don't always have a choice in the matter. His heart does a double take as he realizes how dead set he is on protecting the beautiful woman in his arms.  
He thinks it's probably nothing different than having different skin colour, when it comes down to it. Their diets are vastly different from each other, but they both travel in a world where being up during the nights is more natural than sleeping and they've both seen the things nightmares are made from without losing their humanity.

To Sam, that's more important than everything else and he clings to the thought as closely as Lenore clings to his warm body.

She finds comfort in his sturdy frame. The way he effortlessly carries her towards the Impala and then settles her in onto the seat, buckling her up as if she were a defenceless child, pushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear and muttering something comforting and nonsensical before he walks around and gets in on the driver's side.

"You okay? I mean… I'm sorry, I…"  
She smiles weakly and cuts him off.  
"Sam Winchester. No excuses. None are needed. Just take me home, please. I'll direct you."  
Just like that, she invests even more trust in him as she readily offers up the road to her safe haven, not even flinching as she takes him through the twists and turns of the road that leads to her home.

He lifts her up and takes her inside and gets as far as to offer her a smile and a joke as he carries her across the threshold, but then he stops and just stands there in the middle of the living room, unsure what to do. He feels, somehow, that accompanying her into her bedroom would be wrong. He's pretty big on the politeness and gentlemanliness so he softly asks her where she wants him to put her down.  
She senses his discomfort and assures him that the living room couch is fine. It's comfortable and big, and the windows of the room are all light proofed, she tells him softly.

After he's put her down, he pulls a blanket from one of the big, poofy chairs and drapes it around her.  
"So… Can I… Get you anything?"

She shakes her head. The only thing he could do is out of the question, so she's not even going there. He shifts and his face is a study in insecurity so she gently brings up a hand from under her blanketed cocoon and pats the couch beside her.  
"Keep me company until Eli comes home?"

He doesn't hesitate for a second.

She loves that trust. It's something she hasn't experienced in such a long time and coming from this tall, adorable man-boy with his big, sensitive hands – so attuned to killing yet so capable of comforting and helping… it throws her and she enjoys the shock to her system as she recognizes "care". As much as her nest is important to her, as much as her family of fellow vampires are her friends, she hasn't experienced this softness since before she was turned and it confuses her a little. Were it anyone else, she'd be worried, but Sam's beautiful puppy-eyes are gazing down on her now, meeting her eyes with a mixture of tenderness, concern and protectiveness that touches her non-existent heart.  
As if she's not alone in the world.

Her cold hand snakes into his big, warm one and she shrugs when he looks at her, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.  
"Feels good. I'm cold."  
He accept that without any hesitation, and he folds both his big hands around her one, smaller one, so fragile looking in his grip. Running his hands slowly up and down her arm, he offers his warmth to her, and she happily takes what he gives.  
"So… Tell me about… you?"  
"What do you want to know?"  
Her voice is jagged and sharp, even to her own ears, as she continues  
"Why did I become a monster? And how and when? That sorta thing?"  
He flinches in surprise and she relaxes again, not even having been aware of how much his question had tensed her up.  
"Um… No. I just… You. Who you are. As a person. You know?"  
His voice is soft and a bit hurt. He could feel the anger in her as she whipped her words at him and he doesn't get it. She excuses him instantly. Of course he didn't mean it like that, not Sam. He's not like everybody else.

She melts a little against the fact that he'd called her a person. Most of the time, she doesn't even think if herself that way, no matter how hard she's trying to retain the humanity inside. It's hard to see yourself as a human, when everyone else instantly pin points you as a monster.

She squeezes his fingers and whispers that she's sorry. He pulls one hand out from her grip and caresses her cheek.  
"S'ok."

And for a moment, she believes him.

So she tells him. She prattles on about nonsensical things. Memories, books she loves, movies she knows by heart (she quotes a few of them to him and he laughs a little at her, when she's not only doing the lines, but the faces and gestures too. His laughter is sweet, as honey, and she doesn't mind.) and she asks him to fetch her favourite cd's from the case in the shelf.  
The listen silently as Depeche Mode's "Sister of Night" fills the room.

He understands. They've ended up lying down on the couch, he's behind her and his arms are encircling her in a completely non-erotic way as he listens to the lyrics and when it ends, he kisses her sleek, cool temple gently, wordlessly and she knows.  
She's not alone in the world.

He asks about the blood. He does it rather hesitatingly as if he was embarrassed. She thinks he probably is, but she tells him. She explains the best way she can get him to understand.  
"It's like… Do you like red wine?"  
He hums in admission.  
"Then, imagine a real fine, well aged Merlot. A rich, full bottle of Merlot with a fruity bouquet and a tang of wood and earth, scented like berries and vanilla and the most delicious perfume? Imagine the way it rolls on your tongue and how the third sip makes your head a little dizzy from pleasure… Now imagine that you need that wine. It sustains you, warms you from inside and makes you strong, but it's also a kind of addiction. And cow's blood is like… I don't know. Coca Cola? Too sweet and heavily coloured and artificial in a way you just can't deny and all of a sudden, it's all you're allowed to drink."  
She lets out a small giggle. It sounds like a snort.  
"But let me tell you… It's absolutely preferable over pig. That blood is just FOUL! Tastes like vinegar, which is rather strange since they're so closely related to humans, but… What do you know, right?"  
He nods then, suddenly understanding so well what she goes through.

She dozes off, safe and warm in his arms, and he holds her like that until Eli barges in – eyes ablaze and fangs out until Lenore wakes up with a start and shields Sam with her body until Eli's heard the explanation and is satisfied with letting Sam go back into the night, on his own.

As he leaves, she kisses his cheek tenderly and whisper  
"Thank you, Sam Winchester. For everything."  
He hugs her awkwardly, not at all as comfortable now that Eli is watching their every move.  
"Anytime, Lenore. Really."  
He kisses her on the top of her head and then lets her go, rather abruptly, to dig into his big brown bag, slung at the foot of the couch, and fishing out a cd that he hands to her.  
"Track three."  
It's all he says before slipping out of her life.

She rather hopes it's not for good.

As she gets tucked into the backseat of Eli's big truck and they hit the road, she hands him the cd and asks him to play track three for her. She can't help but laugh, when a man's voice starts to fill the space, the words such a friendly promise of love that she smiles, even when the truck hits a few potholes and pain stabs through her wounds.  
She's not alone in the world.

"_My beloved monster and me  
We go everywhere together  
Wearing a raincoat that has four sleeves  
Gets us through all kinds of weather_

_She will always be the only thing  
That comes between me and the awful sting  
That comes from living in a world that's so damn mean_

_My beloved monster is tough  
If she wants she will disrobe you  
But if you lay her down for a kiss  
Her little heart it could explode_

_She will always be the only thing  
That comes between me and the awful sting  
That comes from living in a world that's so damn mean"_


End file.
